Second Chances
by Regina Noctis
Summary: Lucia Ignatius is a 17 year old pureblood Ravenclaw and friend of the Golden Trio. When she stumbles across one of their oldest enemies, she realizes that everyone does deserve a second chance. HBP canon.
1. The Beginning

Seventeen year-old Lucia Ignatius lay on her stomach in the darkened living room of her flat, her head pillowed on her crossed arms, and stared listlessly into the roaring hearth. Her storm-gray eyes were welling with tears for the umpteenth time that day as the memories rolled over her again and again. _Why, why didn't he let me fight?_ she asked herself silently. _Maybe I could have done something, maybe things would have turned out differently, maybe…_ She wiped the tears away with her hand and, in the same motion, brushed a loose strand of her dark auburn hair back into place before resuming her original position.

It had been just yesterday when Hogwarts had closed for the summer—_perhaps for forever,_ she thought sadly—and over a month since two of the closest people to her had been murdered in the Death Eaters' attack on the school. Dumbledore had been killed, as everyone knew, by Severus Snape, former Professor and current traitor to the Order of the Phoenix. But few people knew about the death of her father, Henry Ignatius, a quiet but fierce Auror from the Ministry of Magic and part-time Healer at St. Mungo's who had died at the hands of a Death Eater. What tortured Lucia the most was her father's visit before the battle began, before anyone could dream of the losses that would be sustained that night.

_Lucia was writing a last-minute essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts in the Ravenclaw common room. A pop from the fireplace made her look up blearily from her work. She was in time to see the flames in the hearth flash green before a tall, grey-haired wizard stepped out. He brushed loose ash from his cloak while Lucia rose in surprise. "Father? What's wrong? Why—" Lucia began before he stopped her._

"_The Order has been notified of a Death Eater attack at Hogwarts," he said hurriedly. "I'm here to do whatever it takes to get those monsters out of here, but in the meanwhile—"_

"_But Father," Lucia interrupted. "I'm of age, I'm a member of the Order, and I'm_ here _already. Why wasn't I notified?"_

"_Because there is no way I am letting my girl put herself in danger of getting killed!" Her father's voice rang eerily in the empty common room. His brown eyes locked with her grey ones in a silent war of wills before he continued, using the nickname he had given her as a young girl. "Now listen, Angel, there isn't much time left. I came through here to ask you to do something for me. No matter what happens tonight,_ you must not leave the common room. _Do you understand?"_

"_But why can't I help—"_

"_No, Angel! Don't even think about helping the Order! They're here to kill this time—there will be no fun and games tonight. I order you, do_ not_leave the common room under any circumstances until the coast is clear." And her father turned away hastily for the portrait hole._

"_Father," Lucia called after him in consternation. "What do you mean by 'kill'?"_

"_Just stay here!" he shouted as he opened the portrait hole and leaped out. The portrait slammed shut, and she heard the muffled voice of her father as he cast a spell on the portrait._

"_Father, no!" Lucia ran to the portrait hole and threw herself against the door. It refused to budge, no matter how many times she tried to get out, and she finally collapsed on the floor in tears._

_That was where Professor McGonagall found her after the battle was over. Lucia rose from the floor where she had been curled up and quickly stood to attention before her Transfiguration Professor. "Professor, I'm so sorry, Father locked me in here—" Lucia stopped at the pained expression on the witch's face._

"_Miss Ignatius, my consolations," McGonagall began with difficulty. "Your father is—he's dead. He was killed by one of the Death Eaters during the battle. From what we can tell, it seems as if he was Crucioed relentlessly by the last witch he was dueling before he was murdered."_

_Lucia felt her world swirl around her. It took all her control to stay upright. "Who?" she managed to say. Her voice cracked in a faint whisper. "Who did it?"_

"_Bellatrix Lestrange," McGonagall replied sadly, and that was the last thing Lucia remembered before fainting dead away into McGonagall's arms._

Lucia let the tears fall as her memory finished its playback. _He knew, he knew he might not survive…and he wanted me to have the chance to live._ She rose and stumbled to the pile of tissues lying on the coffee table next to her. Turning her back to the fireplace, she blew her nose vigorously, her mind still occupied by her nightmarish memory.

_Pop!_ A familiar noise from the fireplace interrupted her thoughts. She whirled around to see a familiar head sitting in the now emerald-green flames. A bespectacled boy with unruly raven-black hair and a famous scar was staring out of the fire with eyes that matched the fire around him. "Lucia?" Harry Potter asked. "Is this a bad time?"

"Harry! Of course not, but what's going on?" Lucia walked over and knelt before the hearth. Even though they had rarely met except through their mutual friends, she still felt closely tied to this Gryffindor. Now, she realized sadly, they were both orphans because of Voldemort's hellish war.

"I'm alerting all Order members of a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley," Harry said grimly. "We need as many fighting members out there as soon as possible. Can you go?"

"Why—" Lucia hesitated for a brief second. The news shocked her, and yet her mind was still clear enough to know what her answer should be. "Yes," she said finally.

"Good. Apparate to the entryway before Gringotts' in five minutes or less. You have your license, right?"

"Yes, but does it really matter at this point?"

He rolled his eyes at her, and she snorted in return. Everyone in the Order, including Lucia, knew full well how he had double-Apparated with an injured Dumbledore from the far coast of Wales to Hogwarts—even though he was still a minor. "I'm not going to answer that. See you there." And with another _pop,_ he disappeared.

Lucia continued to stare into the fire for a long moment after Harry had left. At last, her opportunity had come to do something useful for the cause. And yet, anything could happen to her during the fight. Would this have been an invitation her father would have wanted her to accept?

She shook herself out of her melee of emotions and walked to the coffee table where her wand lay. She picked up the slender stick and savored the feeling of its magic coursing through her arm. Lucia took a step backwards and raised her wand, mentally summoning the elemental powers from the air around her into a swirling mass of color and energy.

Because of the fickle and often explosive nature of elemental magic, the Ministry of Magic had passed strict regulations against its practice. However, Henry Ignatius had been one of the few wizards left who knew the secrets of controlling the four elements—fire, water, earth, and air. Not only had he practiced it secretly while escaping detection, but he also had trained his only daughter carefully to follow in his footsteps.

Lucia let the power build up in the elemental cloud as her father had taught her. If her concentration faltered, she knew there was nothing to stop the elements from breaking free and annihilating her instantly. But nothing happened out of the ordinary. Red, green, blue, and white flashes whirled and sparkled around her with increasing speed. Lucia basked in the energy of her elemental magic for a full minute before vaporizing the cloud with a flick of her wand. The living room remained visibly unchanged, but she could still feel the remnants of the power she had summoned, lingering like a pleasantly strong taste in her mouth.

Lucia felt a smile break across her face for the first time in weeks. She was ready at last.


	2. The Fight for Diagon Alley

Frightened screams and angry shouts greeted Lucia when she finally Apparated to the front door of Gringotts. Diagon Alley was complete chaos. Order members and hooded Death Eaters were dueling in pairs and triples not ten meters away from her Apparition point, and even larger groups were scattered throughout the shop-lined street spreading out before her. Bystanders, mostly young parents and their even younger children, were huddled inside barricaded shops and peered out from the windows with wide eyes.

The closest dueling pair to Lucia consisted of Remus Lupin and two Death Eaters. The werewolf was doing an amazingly good job of dodging multiple spells at once while still remaining on the offensive. But he stumbled after a while and was hit with Impedimenta from one side while the other Death Eater raised his wand for the kill—which was when Lucia stepped in, unseen, from behind.

"_Stupefy!_" The second Death Eater crumpled, giving Lupin sufficient time to recover and Stun the other Death Eater, who was now preparing to attack Lucia. He turned and acknowledged her help with a gentle smile and a nod.

"Do you know what the plan's supposed to be?" Lucia shouted to him over the noise of the fighting.

Lupin shrugged. "Keep the Death Eaters from hurting anyone, Stun as many as you can for questioning, and report back to Headquarters once this is all over, I suppose," he shouted back. "There never really was a plan to begin with, Lucia—" At that moment, he was interrupted by the arrival of another Death Eater, with whom he promptly began to duel.

Lucia sighed and ran towards the heart of Diagon Alley where most of the fighting was taking place. She could not help but wonder at the lack of organization the Order had after Dumbledore's death. McGonagall was the de facto head of the Order now, but even she seemed to follow Harry's lead when it came to the battle plans. Of course, she thought as she ducked a stray curse, not that Harry was completely ignorant of these matters. He probably had had more experience with Voldemort than they all could ever wish to have. But he was still only sixteen, after all—even younger than herself. Could the Order really afford to trust his youthful judgment now, of all times?

As Lucia ran, she passed other Order members she and her father knew well. Tonks was fighting furiously, casting spells left and right, her hair a fire-ruby red to match her attitude. Arthur Weasley was not ten yards away from Tonks, and he was busy dueling a Death Eater almost twice his breadth. Kingsley Shacklebolt was not fighting, but he was prowling the street for any more Death Eaters. He gave a quick nod to Lucia as she flew past him.

Younger, newer members were there, too. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were fighting side-by-side against another pair of Death Eaters. They worked well as a couple; their moves were fluidly coordinated together, although Hermione looked as though she had much to do to avoid tripping over Ron's long arms and legs. Neville Longbottom was farther down the Alley, panting and red in the face as he dodged one curse after another from a very vindictive Death Eater. From the nearby doorway of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George Weasley were firing imaginative curses and hexes at any Death Eater who came too close. Lucia had to laugh as one Death Eater limped off with chicken feathers sprouting out of his/her robes while another galloped away with a beautiful pair of branching antlers. She hoped the hexes were reversible—but with the Weasley twins, one could only hope.

And, of course, Harry Potter was there, fighting off by himself against a lanky Death Eater who taunted Harry in a familiar, oily voice. Harry was attempting to cast a curse at the Death Eater, but the spell was always blocked before it could reach the other wizard.

"Potter, will you never learn Occlumency properly?" the former-Professor Snape was jeering as Lucia came closer. "I can read every spell you're about to cast right off your pathetic face—"

"Maybe it's because I had such a traitorous, murderous bastard for a tutor," Harry ground out. Pure hatred glittered in his normally gentle green eyes. He sent another curse at Snape, who waved it away lazily.

"Language, Potter," Snape said. Lucia could have sworn he was sneering underneath his mask now. "It's not my fault that I had to teach such a lazy, block-headed idiot who cannot appreciate the arts of subtlety. You're just like your arrogant, pig-headed father—he couldn't duel for the life of him, either—"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled, and he tried to throw curse after curse at Snape. "Stop—insulting—my father—you lying—greasy—traitorous COWARD!"

"I said you would regret the day you called me a coward, Potter," Snape roared, incensed now. "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Harry's arms and legs snapped together as he was hit by the Full-Body Bind, and he fell over backwards with a loud thud. Lucia gasped as Snape pointed his wand straight at the helpless boy. Before she could think, she threw herself in front of Harry's frozen body and landed on her knees before the Death Eater. "NOOO!"

Lucia and Snape stared at each other for long moments, Snape's wand tip quivering and aimed at her throat. Both were breathing heavily. Lucia tried to read the dark eyes boring into her, but the combined effect of the mask and the hood made it almost impossible. Was it fear that made him hold back from murdering her right there and then, she wondered. Or could it be sympathy? She held her breath and waited for the Killing Curse to come, as she knew would be inevitable.

Two short screams, one from either end of the street, rang out and broke the tension hanging over them. Snape, visibly startled, jerked his wand up, away from Lucia—and Disapparated.

Lucia struggled to her feet, cursing inwardly for letting such a high-profile enemy escape. It would be well-nigh impossible to trace him down now. She turned behind her to the still-frozen Harry. "_Finite Incantatem!_"

Harry's arms and legs came unstuck again, and Lucia helped him to his feet. There was an awkward silence for a long moment as they stared at each other, uncertain of what to say. "Thank you," Harry finally mumbled, brushing himself off without looking at her. "You—you saved my life."

Lucia blushed and dropped her gaze, staring at her shoes sheepishly. "I shouldn't have let him get away—" she began before the screams repeated themselves, one from the direction she had come, the other farther on down the Alley.

Harry immediately began to sprint back in the direction of Gringotts. "Check out the other one—see you at Headquarters!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Lucia nodded and turned on her heels, running in the opposite direction. As she approached the junction of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, she noticed her surroundings grow more and more desolate and deserted. Deserted, except for two shadowy figures, one large and one small, right in the entranceway of Knockturn Alley.

As she neared them, Lucia saw that it was a tall Death Eater laughing over a cowering, sandy-haired boy, not much older than ten or so. The boy had a pale, handsome face that was now drawn with terror as he stared, wild-eyed, at the large shadow looming over him. The boy's clothes were muddy and sported round stains of some dark substance. It took Lucia more than a moment to realize, horrified, that the dark stains were actually dried blood.

"Please, sir," the boy was pleading. He crawled forward and grabbed the hem of the older wizard's robes. "Please don't hurt me anymore—won't you come help my uncle? I'm afraid he's dying, sir, please help—"

"You foolish brat," the Death Eater scoffed. "I already told you, why should I give a damn about your uncle? Stop pestering me, boy, let go of my robes—_Crucio!_"

The boy screamed and began to twitch uncontrollably when the Cruciatus Curse hit him; but he did not let go of his hold on the robes, much to the Death Eater's chagrin. He cursed wildly as he struggled to free himself from the thrashing boy. Lucia used the man's distraction as her cover while she took careful aim.

"_Stupefy!_" The spell struck the man in mid-oath, and he crumpled to the ground without another word. The boy stopped screaming as well; and he lay where he was, staring at the sky and panting hard, while Lucia walked over to him.

The boy's frightened blue eyes staring up at her pulled at Lucia's motherly instincts. _No one should ever have the right to torture children, _she thought angrily. He looked so delicate, so pale—and so familiar, somehow. She couldn't place it exactly, but she thought this boy looked very much like someone else she knew. She felt a shiver run down her spine, but she pushed those thoughts out of her mind for the moment. "Don't worry," she said to the boy kindly, extending her hand to help him up. "I'm here to help you. Did you say your uncle—?"

At the mention of his uncle, the boy's fear left his eyes. He jumped up faster than lightning, grabbed Lucia by her outstretched hand, and proceeded to half-pull, half-drag her into Knockturn Alley. Lucia barely managed to keep up as the boy ran a good half-mile straight down the darkened street, turned hard right into a small alleyway between two stores, and finally halted before a mass of bloody robes on the ground. A small puddle of dark red had stained the grass around the boy's uncle, and a bloody hand still clutching a wand lay limply on the ground. The hood of his cloak had been pulled down hard over his face, hiding it from view. Lucia reached down and yanked the hood back to better examine her patient.

She suddenly froze in place, still bending over the now-recognizable young man before her, a disheveled head of platinum-blonde hair now greeting her eyes. _No wonder the boy looked so damn familiar, _she thought numbly while a wave of shock threatened to make her faint for the second time in her life.

She was staring down at a badly battered and unconscious Draco Malfoy.


	3. Home and Headquarters

Lucia remained motionless in the dark alleyway as she weighed her options. Killing him outright was out of the question—she could never find the hate to cast a strong enough Avada Kedavra, and especially not in front of the boy who had led her here and had counted on her to help. She could leave Malfoy to die with no one the worse off for her decision. But despite her mind telling her that he probably deserved a fate worse than death anyway, her heart would not let her commit such an act of indirect murder. After suffering so much from the death of her father, Lucia could not allow herself with a clear conscience to cause such grief to Malfoy's loved ones, wherever and whomever they were.

If she did help Malfoy, though, what was she going to do with him afterwards? Would she turn him in to the Ministry? With so much bureaucracy and corruption plaguing every department, and with the high-ranking status of the Malfoy family, she highly doubted that he would receive the justice he deserved. Hand him over to the Order? Lucia had heard Harry and the others swear ruthless vengeance on Malfoy, Snape, and the other Death Eaters directly involved in Dumbledore's demise. She knew the Order had a point, but she could not accept this kind of vigilante action as justice. Deep inside, Lucia knew that she would not be able to turn in this injured wizard without some sense of guilt.

"Will he be alright?" The boy's question interrupted her train of thought. He was staring up at her fearfully. No doubt, she thought, he had been frightened by the blood and had run for help—straight into the clutches of a Death Eater, of all people.

Lucia knelt next to Malfoy without responding. His face was blood-spattered and contorted in pain—or was it with some other emotion? She could not say. His breathing was rather shallow, but it could have been worse. She would have to take him someplace else before she could judge how serious his injuries were. "Yes," she finally answered the boy without taking her eyes off Malfoy's face. "I'll need to move him out of here first, though—would you take off your shoe for me, please?"

The boy gaped at her before complying, taking off one mud-spattered brogue and handing it to her. Lucia accepted it and closed her eyes. She did not want to try to triple-Apparate with one injured and one under-aged person, but thankfully she knew how to create a Portkey. "_Portus!_"

The shoe shone a bright blue; and Lucia knew that after another minute passed, the Portkey would transport them to her flat. The boy glanced at his shoe, wide-eyed, before turning to her. "Where are we going now?" he asked.

"My flat. I can take care of Mal—your uncle better there." Lucia reached for Malfoy's wand hand, hesitated for a brief moment, and pocketed his wand before moving his limp hand on top of the Portkey. It wouldn't do, she decided, if he woke up and panicked while he was still armed. The boy was already holding onto the Portkey for dear life, and Lucia closed her eyes while she counted down the remaining seconds in her head.

The familiar jerk from behind her navel and a spinning sensation told Lucia that the Portkey had started its journey. She kept her eyes closed until she felt her feet hit solid ground with a soft thud. She opened her eyes to find herself in the familiar warmth of her living room, the fireplace still crackling as merrily as she had left it. The only difference was that a strange boy and a bloodied Malfoy were now piled up on the floor before the hearth. The boy picked himself off the ground as Lucia raised her wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Malfoy floated off the floor and hovered just below eye-level, his robes dragging on the floor below him. Lucia maneuvered him out of the room and into the hallway. She paused, her eyes flicking between three doors in the wall across the way from the living room and kitchen. Her father's bedroom remained as it had been when she had arrived home from Hogwarts, and she was still reluctant to go into it. Her bedroom—well, she definitely did not want Malfoy in there. She steered Malfoy towards the last door, the spare bedroom.

The door opened before her as she led Malfoy's floating body into the room and rested him on the bed next to the door. He groaned softly as his head shifted onto the pillow. Lucia couldn't help but notice how pitiful, how helpless he looked now. She sighed and shook her head, clearing her thoughts, before waving her wand over Malfoy. A green ribbon leapt from the end of the stick, curling and weaving itself into shimmering words in the air over Malfoy's chest.

Lucia whistled under her breath as she read what the Instant Diagnosis Charm had to offer. Malfoy had gone through a lot, it seemed. Three broken ribs from a Bone-Breaking Curse, several Cruciati, quite a few Sectumsempras, and—her heart jumped into her throat as she read this—the shock of a grazing Avada Kedavra. _What the hell had Malfoy gotten himself into this time?_ she wondered.

Lucia stared at the words for another moment before flicking them away with her wand. With another wave, she ripped Malfoy's robes down the front and flipped them back to reveal his bloodied, bruised chest. She gasped at the sight of five long gashes crisscrossing his front, some still bleeding slightly. This didn't look good at all.

Quickly, she set to work. Placing her wand tip on the first of Malfoy's wounds, she began to murmur the singsong incantation for the most powerful and useful of healing spells. She continued chanting as the gashes slowly knit themselves together into healed flesh. She had watched her father perform this charm so many times on patients and friends, but she never got over the joy she felt of watching the body heal itself with a little help from magic.

When he was finally healed of his cuts, Lucia stopped the incantation and moved on to the broken bones, just visible by the bruises they had caused. A simple Bonesetter Charm did the trick, and Lucia was confident now that he would recover after a few days of rest. She cleaned off the blood with a wave, and she conjured a red and blue blanket out of the air and draped it over an unmoving Malfoy. She snorted quietly when she imagined his reaction to waking up beneath a blanket of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw house colors.

Finished, Lucia checked her watch. It was nearly eight in the evening, over two hours since the summons. She had probably better head over to Grimmauld Place now, before her friends began to wonder where she was. She removed Malfoy's wand from her pocket and placed it on the bedside table. Then she left the room, closing the door softly behind her; she would check up on Malfoy and give him some healing potions when she got back.

Back in the living room, the boy had put his shoe on again and was now sitting before the fire, staring into the flames much as Lucia had been when she had received her summons such a short time ago. _And yet, how much has happened since then!_ she thought. His clothes may have been dirty, but she noticed that they were certainly of very high quality. He looked very much sad and alone; and Lucia wondered, with a sharp pang of sympathy, how much he had gone through with his uncle that day. "What is your name, dear?" Lucia asked gently as she entered the room.

The boy turned to face her while she strode over to the coffee table and bent over a small wooden box sitting there. He answered her question slowly. "I'm Asher. Asher Fenwick. Will my uncle be all right?"

"Yes, he'll be fine," she replied, standing straight now with a handful of Floo Powder. It was touching to see how much Asher cared for his uncle—enough to roam the dangerous streets of Knockturn Alley to find help for him. "I'm sorry, I have to go somewhere right now—I'll be back in a little while. Please, make yourself at home. You can get something to eat in the kitchen, if you want."

Asher nodded, and he wriggled back from the fireplace as Lucia threw in the Floo Powder. The flames turned green, and she stepped in with a final wave to the boy. "Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

* * *

The Order of the Phoenix was all of a flutter when Lucia stepped out of the fireplace at Order Headquarters. The house had been converted into a partial hospital. People were running up and down the staircase leading to the bedrooms, all carrying healing supplies or trays of food to/from the patients upstairs. Lucia had just stepped out of the living room fireplace when she was accosted by a frantic Molly Weasley. It was too late when Lucia realized that her hands were still covered in Malfoy's blood.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes grew rounder than dinner plates as she took in Lucia's blood-stained hands. "L-Lucia, dear," she stammered. "W-we were just about to go l-looking for you, and—darling, whatever happened to you?!"

"It—it's not as bad as it looks, Mrs. Weasley," Lucia tried to calm the witch down. "I ran into an injured wizard, and I had to take care of him before I came here. I'm not hurt or anything." This was no lie, not by any means; but there was no way in hell that Lucia was going to tell Mrs. Weasley, or anyone else for that matter, whom it was exactly that Lucia was taking care of. "Did I miss much?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed and shook her head. She looked extremely frazzled after the day's events; her red hair flew wildly about in a bird's nest. "No, nothing much," she said wearily. "I think Remus wanted to see you, though. He's up the stairs, first bedroom on the left. I've got to fetch some Pain-Killing Potion now—but do take care of yourself, Lucia!"

"I will, Mrs. Weasley," Lucia called after Mrs. Weasley's retreating figure. Lucia took a moment to clean herself off with a quick "_Scourgify!_" before heading for the staircase. At the foot of the stairs, she nearly collided into one of her closest friends, Ginny Weasley. The redhead was balancing a tray loaded with dirty dishes as she minced down the steps carefully and didn't see Lucia until it was nearly too late.

"Lucia, you're back!" Ginny cried in surprise. "Everyone's been wondering about you. Where've you been?"

"I had to go home. Long story." Lucia shrugged. "When did the others get back?"

"Around an hour ago," Ginny replied, then tossed her head back and laughed. Her tray trembled dangerously. "Sorry," she continued. "I was just thinking about Fred and George. They came back first, and they were showing me this new hex that they learned—it turns a person into a half-animal for a week, and it won't heal unless it wears itself out. They said that You-Know-Who would have a lot of Humanimals in his ranks for the next few days." She laughed again.

"I did see them doing something like that," Lucia sighed and shook her head. "I was just glad they weren't aiming at me. Well, I heard from your mum that Professor Lupin was looking for me…"

Ginny nodded vigorously and shifted the tray in her arms. "Yeah, he was, and so were the _others,_" she said, emphasizing the last word. Lucia could guess who those 'others' were. "It sounded like something important, too… I guess I'll see you around, then." And she continued her way into the kitchen.

Lucia climbed the rickety wooden staircase and found the closed door of Lupin's room just as Mrs. Weasley had directed. Animated voices could be heard from inside. The voices stopped abruptly when Lucia tapped lightly on the door, and Lupin called out from within, "Enter!"

Lucia pushed the door open slowly. Lupin was sitting up in bed, a sling wrapped around his right arm. The Golden Trio sat around him in a half-circle: Ron on a wooden chair, Hermione on the floor, and Harry on a puffy armchair next to the bed. Hermione was in the middle of tending to Ron, who had a nasty-looking cut on his temple. They all stared at Lucia as she entered; she sensed that they had been discussing her, from the guilty looks on the Trio's faces.

"Why, Lucia," Hermione began, concern crossing her face. "We were just wondering where you've been—"

"My apologies to everyone." Lucia cut her off. "I had to go home; some—erm—urgent business came up that I had to take care of." She mentally squirmed at the thought of the Trio's reaction to her houseguests, should they ever find out. "I hope everything turned out fine?"

"Well, yes, pretty much," Lupin jumped in now. "Diagon Alley was not taken by Voldemort, at least. I think everyone suffered some minor injuries—I got a broken arm, courtesy of one of the Lestrange brothers—but we'll live. And although we didn't get all the Death Eaters, most of them are in our custody for further interrogation."

Harry shifted in his chair. "We sure missed some big prizes, though," he muttered. "Imagine the stupidity of Snape being there, the greasy git!"

"Snape was _there??_" Ron asked incredulously. "Has he finally gone nutters, or what? Why is he even out of his house after what he did?"

Lucia cringed inwardly at the mention of the Potions Master. "Harry, I'm sorry. I –I should've gotten him or something—" But Harry held up his hand for her to stop.

"S'not your fault, Lucia," he sighed. "Don't be too hard on yourself. In fact, I should be the one thanking you. If you hadn't been there, I mightn't even be here right now."

Lupin, Hermione, and Ron exchanged strange looks with each other. Apparently, Harry hadn't told them about his encounter with Snape. "Harry, mate," Ron said uncertainly. "What are we missing here?"

Harry briefly explained what had happened between himself, Snape, and Lucia. By the end of it, Lupin was looking at Lucia appraisingly while Hermione and Ron were ogling her in shock. "You—you actually put yourself as a body shield in front of Harry?" Hermione gasped. "But—but that was immensely dangerous!"

Lucia shrugged. "I wasn't really thinking at the time. I just—reacted. But Snape seemed reluctant to kill either of us. It was rather odd."

Ron turned to Harry and winced at the pain from his wound. "So, that's why you wanted her to join us," he said in surprise. "I was wondering why you were so eager to tell her about—ow, _what,_ Hermione?" Hermione had just whacked him in the shins and was motioning for him to shush.

Lucia saw Ron's cut as he spoke to Harry, and she walked over to him quickly. Before anyone could stop her, she placed her wand on his temple and began to chant. The wound disappeared within seconds, and Lucia put her wand away to find everyone staring at her again. "Father taught me how to do it," she said simply, her voice catching slightly on the first word.

Ron held his hand to his head, looking amazed to find himself healed. Lupin nodded slowly, as if he now realized some great truth. "Yes, she would be quite useful," he muttered to Harry, and the young man nodded his agreement.

Lucia was by now seriously puzzled by their guarded interchange. "What am_I_ missing here?" she echoed Ron, looking from one face to another in confusion.

There was a long silence. The members of the Golden Trio avoided looking at her directly while Lupin's eyes bored into her—a very awkward situation indeed. Finally, Harry spoke. "There are two secrets about Voldemort which were known only to Professor Dumbledore, Professor Lupin here, Hermione, Ron, and I. One of them is the prophecy, and the other is the Horcruxes. I wanted to let you in on both of these secrets, but—"

"No offense, Lucia, but we just weren't sure if you were to be trusted," Lupin interjected. Lucia felt her stomach churn again; Malfoy's face had just floated in front of her mind's eye. "I think, though," Lupin continued, "with your display of abilities and courage, we are all very comfortable now with your induction into our little 'Kill Voldemort Forever' club." He chuckled, and the atmosphere in the room relaxed.

Harry started out by explaining to Lucia the prophecy, repeating it to her in its entirety. The realization that Harry was indeed the key to ridding the world of Voldemort, and that a single slip-up could cost the Light's victory forever, made her feel dizzy. What a burden Harry had on his shoulders! She plopped onto a chair next to the door as if she couldn't take any more, and Hermione cast her a sympathetic glance. "I know—it's rather shocking, isn't it?" she said. "But just wait until you hear the rest. It gets even better."

As Harry described the Horcruxes and the process of making one, Lucia felt the blood drain from her face. Here was some of the darkest magic imaginable, being used by the darkest wizard in Britain's history to make himself immortal. It was truly frightening—and Lucia had thought that the Inferi could cause her enough nightmares. She was a Ravenclaw, after all, and her mind was a good deal stronger than her stomach normally was.

"…and this is where you come in, Lucia," Harry finished. He rose from his seat; there was an eager gleam in his eyes as he spoke. "We're searching for all the Horcruxes to destroy them, so that I'll be able to kill Voldemort for good when the time comes. Professor Lupin was to join us, but he won't be able to do this for a while with his injury. So, I was wondering. . ." He paused. "_We_ were wondering if you'd be willing to help us on our search."

Lucia waited for her voice to come back to her before replying. "I would be most honored to help you," she said with emotion, "not just as a sworn enemy of Voldemort, but also as a good friend and comrade of all of you. I will do my best to live up to the trust you've placed on me."

"We're sure you will, Lucia," Lupin said warmly. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, I think it's settled, then. Would you three leave us for a moment? I'd like to speak to Lucia in private."

The Trio exchanged looks, but they left anyway. Hermione gave Lucia a friendly smile as she passed. Once Ron had closed the door, Lupin turned to look at Lucia. There was a certain sadness in his eyes as he spoke. "Lucia," he said gently. "I would like to give you my consolations. Henry was a good friend of mine, and we all miss him as much as you do. Tell me, are you all right?"

Lucia stiffened at the sound her father's name. There was a long pause before she could answer. "It's been—really hard without Father," she said slowly. "But—I've managed as best I can, I suppose. The pain isn't as strong as it used to be, and today's battle helped clear my mind a lot. I just hope—" She hesitated before adding bitterly, "—I just hope I'll be the one to make that Lestrange woman pay for Father's death."

"You might have to fight with Harry on that," Lupin replied dryly, "as he's sworn to kill her already, after what she did to Sirius. But, Lucia," his tone changed into that of a concerned parent. "I want you to promise me that you won't become obsessed with vengeance. Revenge often makes a person worse off after than before. Henry would have wanted you to live a good life without bitterness, remember that. And if you need anything, or if you just want to talk things out, I'll be here to help."

Lucia nodded, a lump growing in her throat. "I promise," was her quiet response. "And thank you."

Lupin closed his eyes and leaned back into his pillows. "Take care of yourself, Lucia," he yawned. "I think Harry wants to start his search in Godric's Hollow the day after tomorrow, so keep your ears open. Good night."

"Good night, Professor," Lucia murmured, and she tiptoed out of his bedroom as softly as she could. It was time for her to go home. It had been a long day already; and little did she know that it was just about to get longer.


	4. Malfoy Manor

Sunset had come and gone when Lucia stepped out of her fireplace to discover Asher curled up on the living room couch. The room's lamps had lit itself of its own accord once the last remaining sunlight had left the wide windows of the living room. The boy was so deeply engrossed in a book from one of the many bookshelves in her house that he didn't notice her entrance. She tilted her head to read the cover and was surprised to find that the book was one of her father's. Not many children found _Powerful and Arcane Magic of the Middle Ages_ interesting—with the exception of herself, Hermione, and now Asher.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked the boy. "I can have dinner ready in about ten minutes."

Asher jumped at the sound of Lucia's voice, and then nodded gratefully once he saw who it was. He went back to his reading as she headed for the kitchen. _Just wait until Hermione meets this little bookworm,_ she thought with amusement as she prepared a quick meat stew for herself and her two houseguests. While the stew boiled on the stove, Lucia rummaged through the potions closet and retrieved a bottle of Pain-Killer and another of Skele-Gro.

When the stew was done, she ladled it into three big bowls. One she set aside for herself; another she brought out to Asher in the living room, who immediately put down his book to eat (_a Hermione with Ron's appetite,_ she smiled inwardly); and the last she placed on a tray with the potions and carried into the spare bedroom.

The lamp in the bedroom flickered on when Lucia opened the door. She slid the dinner tray on the bedside table next to Malfoy's untouched wand, cast a Warming Charm on the stew, and stood over the now-sleeping young man. He looked very young and innocent with his eyes closed and none of that familiar sneer on his face. One would never imagine that this was one of the most wanted criminals in the British wizarding world, second only to Snape. Lucia could find no other emotion but pity as she studied his handsome features.

Malfoy stirred and groaned; before Lucia could move, she found herself staring into his gray eyes—she couldn't help but notice how similar they were to her own. There was a silence as the two stared long and hard at each other. Lucia wasn't sure if he recognized her from Hogwarts, since Ravenclaw and Slytherin so rarely shared classes together.

Finally, Malfoy seemed to find his voice again. "Where am I?" he asked weakly. "Are you—are you an angel?"

Lucia stiffened. He had used her most private nickname, probably without realizing it, and that gave her an eerie sense of déjà vu. Malfoy couldn't possibly know the name her father had given her; it was derived from her middle name, Angela, and even her best friends had never known of it. _He's probably just delirious,_ she reassured herself. But that one question of his made her feel even more bound to take care of him, somehow—almost as if the ghost of her father had sent Malfoy to her.

"No," she said, a slight tremble in her voice. "I'm Lucia Ignatius." She thought she saw a glimmer of recognition flash in his eyes; but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I'm a Ravenclaw in your year, and you're staying in my flat for the moment. You'd obviously been through quite a lot when I found you in Knockturn Alley—"

The phrase 'Knockturn Alley' triggered a swift reaction. Malfoy suddenly struggled to sit upright and grimaced at the pain. "Asher—gods, where is he?" he asked, the panic rising in his voice.

"Stop it! You have three broken ribs, for Merlin's sake!" Lucia cried. "I brought Asher back with me. He's perfectly fine. Please, don't worry, you'll only hurt yourself more."

Malfoy relaxed at this, and he dropped back on the bed, panting and staring at the ceiling. Lucia continued, "I brought you some dinner and potions. I'll leave them here for you later." She turned away and would have left, but Malfoy's voice stopped her.

"Wait." She turned back and was shocked to discover Malfoy staring at her with tears in his eyes. The boy known throughout Hogwarts as the 'Slytherin Ice Prince' was _crying?_ What alternate universe had she just walked into?

"Please," he whispered, his breath coming in short gasps. "I need you—to warn Mother. Tell her—" He choked on the words before managing to continue, "Tory's dead. Death Eaters—Mother must—ignore the summons. Please warn her—I can't do it, but—she must know—before it's too late." The tears overflowed as he finished, and he turned his head away to hide it as best he could.

Lucia didn't know what to do. "Please…" Malfoy begged her again. He reached out to her pleadingly. "Please warn Mother for me…"

"I—I will, Malfoy." Lucia finally found her voice. As she opened the door to leave, his reply stopped her again.

"Thank you, and—please—call me Draco." The last words faded away as he closed his eyes and sank back into sleep.

"I will—Draco," she whispered, her heart aching for his pain, and she closed the door behind her.

When she came back into the living room, she found Asher asleep on the couch, the book still open on the floor where he had left it. _No need to wake him, poor thing…he's probably had a long enough day as it is._ As she grabbed another handful of Floo Powder, she noted the page Asher had left open. The title of the page read: "Temporis Finio: The Time-Freezing Spell." The author then went on to explain—in an extremely dry and technical style, Lucia recalled from her earlier readings—the workings of this extremely powerful and potentially dangerous spell which could freeze time for any undefined period and which was only performable after a decade of dormancy.

Lucia sighed to herself and shook her head. Asher was definitely as bad as, or worse than, the two infamous Gryffindor and Ravenclaw bookworms put together.

She threw in the Floo Powder, watching the flames flash green and hoping to find Draco's mother at the only address which she knew was related to the Malfoys. "The Malfoy Manor!"

* * *

Lucia stood in the middle of the elegant drawing room of Malfoy Manor, quite unsure of herself. A shrinking house-elf had run off to fetch 'Mistress,' leaving Lucia to brush herself off and admire the room around her. A large painting of a pastoral landscape covered one of the walls, and thick velvet draperies blocked the windows from view. The decorations, she thought, were extravagantly flamboyant—even for a family of such ancient background. The Ignatii were as old of a pureblood line as the Malfoys, and perhaps just as rich; but her father had never spent money on crystal chandeliers and embroidered silk cushions such as these. Lucia sighed. It was just as well; she probably wouldn't have ever figured out how to keep them all dust-free.

Lucia was studying the finer details of the painting when a swishing sound came to her ears. She turned to the doorway behind her, just in time to see a tall, dark blonde woman sweep through, her long robes trailing behind her. She had the same gray eyes as her son, but hers were filled with suspicion as she studied Lucia from head to foot.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Narcissa Malfoy asked her, not in a friendly way. "I hope this is important, seeing as it's rather late for a social visit." The woman sat herself down on a silk upholstered chair with all the formality of a noblewoman.

"My name is Lucia Ignatius," Lucia began. She noticed Mrs. Malfoy squint at the name, as if she had heard it before, but the woman made no mention of it. "I have come with a message from your son, Draco."

This certainly got a response out of Mrs. Malfoy. She rose quickly, strode over to Lucia, and grabbed the startled girl's left wrist. When Mrs. Malfoy had pulled back Lucia's sleeve to find no Dark Mark on her forearm, the woman stared hard into the girl's matching eyes, still gripping the wrist tightly. "You--aren't—a Death Eater," she said quietly, yet it was enough to get her boiling fury across. "My son wouldn't trust the likes of you with his life. What have you done with him?"

Lucia winced at the pain in her arm from Mrs. Malfoy's death hold, but she tried to keep as straight a face as possible. "Your son _is_ trusting me with his life right now," she said, just as angry. "I found him, unconscious and bleeding, in Knockturn Alley." She paused, then continued, "Actually, that's not completely true. Your grandson, Asher, was the one who brought me to Draco."

Mrs. Malfoy paled and tightened her hold. "And what, may I ask, was Asher doing with Draco in Knockturn Alley, of all places?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am, but that's not the point," Lucia gritted out. Her arm was beginning to tingle, and the woman's behavior seriously annoyed her. "Draco sent me here to tell you that Tory is dead, I think because of Death Eaters. He said to ignore the summons, and that was all he'd say."

Mrs. Malfoy let out a short shriek and released Lucia, staring wildly at this bearer of bad news and backing off. "No," she whispered, "no, no, not my Victoria, no." She sank back into her chair, shaking her head with her eyes squeezed shut. "My darling Victoria—why would they want to kill her? Why?"

Lucia took a step closer. Mrs. Malfoy seemed a lot less dangerous when she wasn't holding a person in a death grip. "Was she—your daughter?" she asked quietly. "Asher's mother?"

Mrs. Malfoy nodded, the tears streaming from beneath her closed eyelids. All her haughtiness, all her suspicion had melted away into pure grief. "My first child. My only daughter…Lucius was so disappointed until Draco came eight years later." She began to sob quietly.

Lucia didn't know what to say. After another minute of crying, Mrs. Malfoy pulled herself together enough to speak. "It must be true, then, what Draco said." Her voice was charged with grief and anger now. "I couldn't bring myself to believe it before. He said the Dark Lord was threatening to kill us all if—oh!"

Mrs. Malfoy bent forward, clutching her left forearm in pain, and glanced at Lucia in shock. "The summons," she said. It seemed that Lucia had come not a moment too soon.

"'Ignore the summons,' he said." Lucia's mind raced for an explanation. "I think he means…that Voldemort wants you dead, too." Mrs. Malfoy inhaled sharply at the Dark Lord's name, but Lucia let it pass. "You'd better go into hiding, and fast. I have a bad feeling that some Death Eaters will come searching for you fairly soon."

"But—but there is no one I know who would take me in!" Mrs. Malfoy started to wring her hands as her voice rose hysterically. "My friends are all loyal Death Eaters! I have nowhere to go, but—" She calmed herself and drew herself up to her full sitting height, her eyes flashing gray fire. "I'll be glad to meet my daughter's murderers and die fighting."

Lucia sighed. _I bet she wishes she'd been more diverse in choosing her circle of friends._ If Draco's mother was killed, Lucia didn't want to imagine her patient's reaction—or, for that matter, Asher's. There seemed little choice left for her to make. "Follow me back to my flat," she said softly, leaning in towards Mrs. Malfoy to make sure she heard every word. "I'll let you, Draco, and Asher stay there until it's safe for all of you to leave. If you don't come within half an hour, I'm afraid I'll have to assume the worst has happened to you."

Without waiting for Mrs. Malfoy's reply, but still noticing the gratitude shining in the woman's eyes, Lucia grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder from the box near the hearth and threw it in. "Thirteen Maplewood Place, Room 6B!"

* * *

When Lucia got home, tired and completely worn out from her day's experiences, the first thing she did was to go to the spare bedroom and conjure two beds, one larger than the other, next to the one Draco was currently occupying. Then she went back to the living room, carefully levitated the sleeping Asher onto the smallest of the three beds, and watched both boys sleep for a minute before removing the now-empty dinner tray and leaving for the kitchen.

After wolfing down her late dinner and washing the dirty dishes Muggle-style, Lucia stumbled to the privacy of her bedroom. She immediately collapsed on the bed without changing out of her robes and fell into a dreamless sleep within seconds. She was so deeply asleep that she never heard the soft _pop_ from the living room, nor did she awaken when a cloaked woman stuck a blond head into the doorway and quickly withdrew it.


	5. Admission and Acceptance

A flapping of wings was the first thing Lucia heard as she awoke. When she opened her eyes, she saw a tawny barn owl swoop over her and land on the bedpost just above her head. She sat bolt upright as her father's owl hooted joyfully from his perch. Apollo had been missing for the weeks since her father's death, and Lucia was glad to see the family owl home once more.

"Hey, there," she said to the owl, who hooted again. "Where have you been hiding these last few weeks?"

The owl took flight and soared out the door in response. Lucia leapt out of bed and followed Apollo into the kitchen—to find an imposing pile of mail on the counter by the sink. On top of the pile was this morning's _Daily Prophet,_ and the glaring headline on the front page made Lucia freeze in her tracks.

_MALFOY MANOR TARGET OF DEATH EATER ATTACK,_ the paper read. Beneath the title was a picture of the Dark Mark, a green skull glimmering luridly in the black night sky, presumably over the mansion Lucia had just visited the night before.

She picked up the paper and continued to read, her hand shaking. According to the article, a mob of Death Eaters had come to the mansion late the previous night, apparently looking for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy; and upon discovering that both were not there, the group had taken their anger out on the house. By the time the Ministry's Aurors had arrived on the scene, the interior of the Malfoy Manor was in shambles. The Death Eaters had Disapparated before they could be arrested; Lucia mentally cursed the incompetence of the Ministry. The article ended with a short sentence saying that Lucius Malfoy was unavailable for comment, seeing as he was currently locked up in Azkaban; but the article never mentioned where the two remaining residents of the estate had been at the time of the attack.

Lucia set the paper aside and noticed a letter, marked URGENT in broad black strokes, on the top of the pile. When she read the name of the sender, she immediately grabbed the letter and broke open the strange-looking magical seal on the other side.

_Dear Lucia,_

_I've closed this letter with a seal so that only you can open it—necessary for security, you understand. We're heading out to Godric's Hollow tomorrow morning to start searching for what I told you about last night. Please meet us at Headquarters by 8 AM latest. I'm not sure what we'd be up against, but bring anything you think would be useful. See you tomorrow!_

_Harry_

_P.S. Please burn this note after reading._

After throwing the letter into the stove, Lucia began making breakfast for one—no, _four_ people. This was one of the many mornings when she wished that her father had a house-elf, like any other respectable pureblood family. At least, the time it took for the coffee to boil and the bread to toast gave her enough time to reflect on the last twenty-four hours. And Merlin, wasn't there a lot to think about.

Once the breakfast was ready, Lucia heaped plates of buttered toast, assorted spreads, and mugs of steaming black coffee onto the largest tray she could find. She staggered underneath its weight to the spare bedroom and paused outside. Through the door, she could make out two voices conversing; the words 'Dark Lord,' 'Dumbledore,' and 'promises' were just barely audible. As she couldn't very well knock at the moment, she called out softly, "Good morning! Could someone let me in, please? I can't open the door."

There was a pause; one of the voices muttered incoherently, and a half-minute later Asher opened the door. His sleep-filled eyes widened at the sight of all the food on Lucia's tray. Behind him, Draco was propped up in his bed with his jaw dropped and the same bug-eyed expression on his face as his nephew. Mrs. Malfoy was sitting on the edge of her bed, still wearing a traveling robe and looking as if she'd had very little chance to sleep that night. Two large and ornate trunks were now in the back corner, presumably brought there by Mrs. Malfoy. As Lucia placed the tray on a small table near the window, she noticed a half-folded copy of the day's _Daily Prophet_ on the edge of Draco's bed. So, they knew about the attack already.

"Miss Ignatius." Lucia turned to Mrs. Malfoy, who was looking at her with blood-shot eyes. "I—I don't know what I can do to thank you. You've done so much more than even my own blood kin would ever have done for us." She bowed her head. "We are deeply indebted to you for your help."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm just glad to do anything to help anyone in need," Lucia replied softly. "Truly, it's not at all a problem. Frankly, before I found Draco and Asher, I was beginning to get rather lonely living here all by myself. My home is yours to use as long as necessary." Lucia smiled, and then added, "Under one condition, however—please call me Lucia. If we're to be living together, 'Miss Ignatius' is far too formal for my taste."

Mrs. Malfoy laughed wearily, and returned, "And please call me Narcissa. My mother-in-law is the real Mrs. Malfoy, and I would prefer not to be confused with her yet."

"Of course." Lucia turned to Draco. "And how are you feeling today, sir? Better than yesterday, I hope?"

Draco nodded. "You worked wonders last night, thanks," he said. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I think I owe you an explanation of what happened before you found me. I'm assuming you've been wondering…?"

"You've assumed correctly, but I know better than to nose into other people's business."

"A true Slytherin at heart," Narcissa murmured to no one in particular.

Draco ignored her. "It's a long story, and I haven't even told Mother everything yet," he said. "But it might be easier to tell it now, when everyone's here, so I don't have to repeat the whole thing over again."

"Uncle," Asher had come to Draco's side and laid a hand on his uncle's blanket. "May I be excused, please? I—I'd rather not—" Draco nodded before Asher could say more, and the boy ran off, looking relieved. Lucia had no time to wonder what the exchange had been about before Draco continued.

"As I'm sure you know already, the Dark Lord assigned me the task of murdering Dumbledore. And as I found out, I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill someone who had been my role model for the last six years. I gave the impression of trying, of course—if I didn't, I'd be dead before a week was up; but I never really had my heart in it. If it weren't for Professor Snape, Dumbledore probably wouldn't have died that night because I wouldn't have been able to kill him.

"The Dark Lord was far from pleased when we returned after the battle. He—he tortured all of us, but especially me. He ranted about how I had ruined everything by forcing Professor to reveal his true colors and thereby losing one of our most valuable spies, how I had disgraced my father's name, and how my family would pay for my cowardice. I was too much in pain to understand the last part until—until it was too late." Draco took a shuddering breath, and Narcissa reached out to touch his hand comfortingly.

"I went home to recover and didn't give it a second thought until yesterday morning. That's when Tory paid me a frantic half-visit through the Floo. She only had time to beg me for help before she was pulled back to her side of the fireplace, and I jumped in after her. When I came out of the fire, I found five Death Eaters torturing my brother-in-law, Jacob Fenwick, in his own living room. They invited me to join them before telling me that Tory had been taken to the bedroom with Asher to be 'finished off properly.' I didn't even wait to see them murder Jake; I knew I had to try to save Tory first. I didn't know what they had been planning to do with Asher, but I had a very bad feeling about it. When the Dark Lord asks for someone to be 'finished off,' it can't be good.

"I got to the bedroom, and I found my sister on her knees before a single Death Eater. Asher was trying to hide behind her. Tory was pleading, not for her life, but for Asher's. She begged him to do anything with her, as long as they left Asher alone. But he just laughed in her face, and then—" Draco let out a dry sob, the tears rolling freely down his pale face. He stared out into the sunshine just beyond the bedroom window, his eyes fixated on a far-distant point. "He killed her. Just like that. I could only stand there, I watched the curse hit her, I saw the light leave her eyes as she fell."

He stopped, his voice shaking beyond control. Narcissa had already buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling with silent crying. Lucia herself was having difficulty seeing through her own tears. _No wonder Asher wanted to leave…poor boy, he had to watch his own mother die in front of his eyes!_ She reached out and took Draco's hand, much like Narcissa had done moments earlier, and gave it a tight squeeze.

"I couldn't—I couldn't do anything to save my own sister," Draco finally continued, the pain in his voice evident. "But I'd be damned if I let him kill Asher, too. He was crying over his mother's body when that—that _murderer_ raised his wand on him, too. I—I don't know what got into me then, but I jumped in front of Asher and refused to move. When the Death Eater tried to get me out of the way, I told him that both he and the Dark Lord could go to hell for killing innocent women and children and that I wouldn't be a part of it any longer.

"This didn't go over very well with him, naturally, and he started cursing me with a lot of different things—I can't even remember all of them, except that everything hurt like hell. I was beginning to black out when I heard him cast the Avada Kedavra. I grabbed Asher's hand and Disapparated out of there before the curse could hit either of us, and then I must have passed out." He sighed and glanced at Lucia. "The next thing I remember, I was in this bed and I could've sworn an angel who looked like Tory was standing over me. I thought I had died and gone on to the next world or something."

Lucia blushed as Narcissa peered at her through reddened eyes. "Why didn't I notice it before," Narcissa breathed. "You _do_ look rather like Victoria…why, Merlin help us, you even have the Black family eyes! My dear, are you related to the Blacks, by any chance?"

Lucia really didn't know the answer to that, as she never was fond of the bloodline and heritage business in the first place, and tried to shrug it off by muttering something about pureblood inbreeding. Draco waited for them to finish before continuing. "Before Dumbledore—died," he stumbled on the last word, "he offered me the chance to redeem myself. He said that my family and I could receive the protection of the Order at any time if I chose not to kill him. Seeing as I didn't kill him, and somehow I managed to stay alive, I was wondering if…" He trailed off and looked over to Lucia.

She understood his unfinished sentence. "If I can help you contact the Order?" she asked quietly. Draco nodded.

Lucia remained silent for a moment before answering slowly. "If you really want my advice, I'd have to say that trying to join the Order now might not be a good idea for any of us. For one thing, everyone is so angry about Snape's betrayal that your arrival will probably end up being very ugly. For another, I'm just a newbie in the Order, and there's not much of a chance that they would be swayed by my opinions. If I was Harry Potter, maybe it would be a different story." _Yeah, as in Harry would've left you for dead or, more likely, killed you outright._

Draco grimaced, as if he was thinking along the same lines—or perhaps it was just a twinge from one of his ribs. "The only thing I _can_ do for you, however," Lucia continued, looking back and forth between Draco and Narcissa, "is to let you stay here for as long as you wish…if both of you are willing to renounce being Death Eaters for good. Maybe, if we tried to get you into the Order at a better time, the fact that you have lived with me for so long and played traitor to Voldemort"—both mother and son winced—"will help my testimony on your behalf." _Or, it could totally backfire and make me look really,_ really _bad for having harbored two wanted criminals in my own house._

A long moment passed in silence. When Narcissa finally spoke, her voice barely carried to Lucia's ears. "Merlin knows how long I've wanted my husband and son out of the Dark Lord's service," she said softly. "And after what He has done to my family…" Narcissa's voice rose, and she trembled with anger. "He left Lucius to rot in Azkaban, sent Draco on a suicidal mission, and now has Victoria murdered! What else can I say but—but good riddance to the lot of them! I would be more than willing to switch sides—to one that rewards loyalty with something better than death!"

"I agree completely," Draco added. "And if you would like to test our loyalty to you, Lucia, I open myself to a dose of Veritaserum." Narcissa nodded her agreement.

Lucia studied the two of them for a minute, the angry mother and the injured son. "No," she said finally. "I don't have access to any Veritaserum in any case; and besides, I trust my intuition, and right now it's telling me to give you all a second chance. I don't know why, but I feel I should give you the benefit of doubt before I pass any judgments on your character." _If only some other people would do the same. . ._ "Now, please, do have some breakfast, both of you—shall I go get Asher now?"

Draco nodded and sent her a look of pure gratitude as she turned to leave. _Humph,_ she thought as she left. _He's actually rather good-looking when he takes that bloody sneer off his face._

Asher was reading in the living-room again, still poring over the same book he had found the night before. Lucia noticed that his eyes were a little redder than before; she suspected he'd been crying. "Asher, it's time for breakfast," she said softly.

The boy looked up at her, but he didn't respond. Lucia came closer. "Do you like the book?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "My—my mum had a copy of this," he said brokenly. "It was her favorite."

"Oh, Asher…" Suddenly, in a passion of sympathy, Lucia threw her arms around this fellow orphan. Asher hugged her tightly and began to sob into her shoulder.

"Shhhh…it's alright, darling, it's alright," Lucia murmured into the little boy's hair as he wept his heart out. Merlin, if only she could have a child of her own someday.

"I miss my mum," Asher sobbed. "And my dad…"

"I know how it feels, darling." Lucia pulled away from him to look him in the eyes. "My mother died when I was born, and I just lost my father a month ago."

Asher's eyes widened. "Then…we're the same," he whispered.

"Yes." Lucia hugged him again. _Indeed, we are._


	6. Godric's Hollow

Lucia found Godric's Hollow to be full of the sounds and smells of early summer when she Apparated there ahead of the Trio the next morning. A small and quaint cottage with an open doorway sat in the middle of what had once been an English garden. The birds were singing merrily, frogs could be heard in a croaking chorus from a nearby pond, and the overgrown lilies from the untended garden produced such a strong aroma that Lucia could almost reach out her hand to touch it.

The place was so calm, so beautiful, that it was hard for Lucia to imagine the deaths and despair one man had caused in this same house so many Halloweens ago.

As Lucia stood in front of the cottage, taking in her surroundings, three soft pops came in rapid succession from somewhere behind her, followed by heated conversation. She turned around to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione walking up from behind, arguing vigorously with each other.

"It was bloody disgusting!" Ron was shouting, his ears glowing a furious pink. "I mean, they're fully-grown adults! Can't they just do it in the privacy of their bedroom?"

"Come off it, Ron," Harry was shaking his head. "S'not like you're a blushing virgin yourself. . ."

"Especially after what you did with Lavender in the common room," Hermione cut in.

"Actually, I was talking about him and you, 'Mione." The girl blushed a deeper scarlet than Ron's hair as Harry's words sunk in.

Lucia sighed as the Trio approached. Those three were still talking about the incident that had occurred just before her arrival at Headquarters. Ron had walked into the kitchen for an early breakfast and found Lupin and Tonks in a passionate embrace while the coffee percolated on the stove. Apparently, Lupin's broken arm and Tonks' crushed ribs had done nothing to impede their long snog; according to a very disgruntled Ron, it had only made the situation more interesting as the couple maneuvered around each others' injuries.

"Well, it's not like we didn't expect it to happen," she said now as the three others joined her. "After all the mooning they've been doing over each other—" This drew a round of snorts from everyone. "Oh, stop it—you know full well what I meant!"

Harry cleared his throat, and Lucia felt herself snap to attention. _The little general is taking over._ "Shall we start searching for the horcruxes, then?"

They all nodded. "Remind me, mate," Ron said, furrowing his brow in concentration. "What're all the horcruxes we should be looking for?"

"Honestly, Ron, you need some serious help with your memory!" Hermione groaned. "Isn't this the third time you've asked today?"

Harry ignored her. "To start out with," he began thoughtfully, "there's the part that was in Voldemort's diary—that's one. There's the Gaunt family ring—that's two. Then there's his snake, Nagini—that's three. And Dumbledore suspected that four, five, six, and seven would be an object from each of the Hogwarts houses: Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and something from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw apiece."

"Dumbledore destroyed the Gaunt ring," Hermione continued, "Harry destroyed the diary in second year, we can't worry about Nagini until the very end, and Slytherin's locket is as good as gone. So, that's three left."

Harry sighed and kicked at a loose stone in the grass. "I'd still like to account for that bloody locket, though," he mumbled.

"And you guys think there might be something here from the night Voldemort came?" Lucia asked.

Harry nodded. "I think—he wanted to make a horcrux from my soul—once he killed me," he answered. "It must be still here, somewhere."

"And you don't know what it is yet? We're just going to snoop around the place until we stumble across it?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Lucia rolled her eyes. "Just checking, Harry," she replied as the four of them started walking the final stretch to the cottage. She could feel Harry tense up beside her as they approached the yawning blackness of the doorway. To think that the Potters had died inside this very house…

"Are you all right?" she asked in a low voice.

Harry sent her a look. "What do you think?" he shot back, his voice cracking. "This is where my life was ruined…" He let his sentence hang in the air.

Lucia nodded, touched his arm as they stopped in front of the threshold. Ron and Hermione were just behind them, respectfully silent. "I know how you feel," was all she said.

Harry gave her a faint smile of gratitude before plunging into the darkness of the house, with Lucia and the others closely trailing him. After the cheery brightness of the outside world, the dank darkness inside the house was almost too much to bear. Lucia nearly choked on it—her love of the elements had also given her an uncontrollable fear of dark places. Her companions were less affected, however, and soon everyone had lit their wands to reveal a totally wrecked entryway and living room. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, blocking the bay windows of what had once been a sitting area from letting in more than a hazy glow. Tables and chairs overturned, furniture smashed, broken glass littering the floor—Voldemort certainly had left behind a mess.

"Shall we spread out?" Hermione squeaked after they had all adjusted to the dimness of the room. Harry nodded, his emotions barely held in check as he pointed out where everyone would look. Lucia was assigned to cover the second-floor bedroom where the final standoff had occurred; Harry obviously wanted to stay away from where his mother had died to save him. Lucia merely nodded, not wanting to meet Harry's pain-filled gaze, and climbed the stairs silently as the others dispersed on the ground floor.

The atmosphere in the former nursery was much brighter than that of downstairs. Through the shattered glass of the lone window on the far wall, a cheerful stream of light shone into the room and cast a warm, golden glow throughout. Everything, from the oaken dresser with the cracked mirror in the corner to the dangling and broken baby mobile slowly twirling over what had been Harry's crib, spoke of Voldemort's attack; but unlike the depressing entry of the Potter residence, there was a residue of love and emotion that Lucia could still sense in the air.

As Lucia surveyed the room, a glittering object on the floor in front of the crib caught her eye. _Probably just a shard of broken glass,_ she thought, but she stepped closer to see in any case.

It wasn't a shard of broken glass. It was a small silver hand mirror, glass side up, that was reflecting the sunlight from the shattered window. Lucia hesitated for a moment before picking the mirror up by the handle and peering into the glass.

At first, all she could see was her reflection, that of a scared-looking girl with grey eyes and dark hair. But within seconds, the reflection changed, morphed into a handsome young man's face. The young man looked akin to Harry, with dark hair and green eyes; but yet he seemed alien in some frightening way. Lucia was so shocked by his sudden appearance that she nearly dropped the mirror.

"Who are you?" the man in the mirror asked, adding to Lucia's fright. He couldn't be much older than twenty-one or twenty-two, she realized.

"I should be asking you the same question," Lucia managed to say. "And what in Merlin's name are you doing in this mirror??"

The man humphed in obvious annoyance. "I asked you first," he retorted. "But never mind. My name is Tom Riddle, and I'm in this mirror because it's my home. Where else would you expect a part of your soul to reside, anyway—mmph!"

The words 'part of your soul' were all Lucia needed to hear to spring into action. Whomever this Tom person was, he was part of a horcrux, of that there could be no doubt. She quickly muffled the Tom in the glass with the front of her robes before examining the silver-plated back of the mirror. What she saw nearly made her drop the mirror again.

It was a coat of arms, with a flying ebony bird on a background of embedded sapphire jewels, a silver letter 'R' emblazoned beneath the creature. Lucia knew that emblem anywhere: she saw it in her common room every day during her six years at Hogwarts.

_Ravenclaw._

A muffled shriek from somewhere downstairs jolted her out of her reverie. Lucia thrust the mirror into the pocket of her robes and ran out of the room, stumbling a little as she did so. The shriek didn't stop as she tore down the stairs, jumping over the last three, and continued to sprint toward the source of the noise: the cellar, where Ron and Hermione had been assigned to search.

"Harry! Lucia! Where the bloody hell _are_ you people??" she heard Ron yell from what seemed like an interminable distance away as she tore down the stairs and plunged into nearly complete darkness. She was surprised that she had managed not to miss a step while being unable to see a thing.

"I'm here!" she cried. "_Lumos!_" The tip of her wand lit up to reveal a cavernous tunnel, complete with stalagmites and stalactites. _Merlin's beard. . . what did the Potters keep down here??_

"Coming!" came Harry's voice from the top of the stairs. "What's going on?"

"_Acromantula!_" Hermione screamed from the same distance as Ron.

Lucia immediately sprinted into the tunnel, her heart pounding like mad. Harry followed close at her heels. An Acromantula was no joke, she knew. Not only was its venom highly poisonous, but it was also an extremely difficult creature to subdue. From the look of its surroundings, it was probably ravenous and very irritable. And with Ron's infamous fear of spiders. . .

Lucia and Harry ignored the many branches of the tunnel as they ran—probably part of the Acromantula's nest—and rounded a corner of the tunnel to find the massive, hairy form of the Acromantula between them and a very frightened Ron and Hermione, both backed up against the far wall where the tunnel ended. They had their wands out; but Ron was too scared to manage even the simplest of spells, and Hermione's Stunners were merely reflected off the arachnid's thick hide. The Acromantula was just getting more and more aggravated by the useless spells.

Hermione tried again. "_Stupef—_ARGH!"

The fully-annoyed spider had swung one of its hairy legs at the two humans below. Lucia cried out as both Ron and Hermione were sent flying by the impact. Ron was mercifully knocked out when he collided with the stone wall; Hermione screamed when one of her bones cracked upon landing on the hard ground. Blood quickly began to pool on the floor around her; the broken bone must have punctured through her skin.

Lucia's cry got them the unwanted attention of the spider, and it wheeled around clumsily to face herself and Harry, its cluster of eyes focusing beadily on its newfound prey. Before it could fully register their arrival, however, Harry had beaten Lucia to the draw.

"_Conjunctiva!_" The spell struck the creature right in the middle of its many eyes, and it squealed loudly from the pain of the Conjunctivitis Curse. It reeled forward madly; Harry and Lucia dove out of its path just in time.

Lucia realized, as the injured spider turned around again to corner them in almost exactly the same position as it had with Ron and Hermione earlier, that they needed to disable the Acromantula—fast. Discretion was not advisable at this juncture; only speed was.

Quickly, before the spider had another chance to charge, she raised her wand and summoned the elemental powers faster than she would have liked. The cloud of swirling energy surrounded her as it usually did; but the furious energy of the fire element, sensing her panic and haste, tried to burn off and break free of her command. Harry began to edge slowly away from her as the colors rapidly increased in intensity, probably unsure of whom to fear more, the elemental girl or the Acromantula.

"No—dammit—_not now_—" Lucia hissed in pain as her wand hand started to burn from the effort of holding back the fire. The element wasn't fully ready yet; she just needed a few more seconds before it was fully controlled, but Harry seemed too terrified of both her and the creature to create a diversion, and the Acromantula was preparing to swipe them off their feet as well. . .

The spider swung a leg blindly at the two humans. Harry was able to dive out of the way again; but Lucia, distracted by the burns on her hand and the tricks that fire was trying to pull, didn't move fast enough. The dagger-like ends of the spider's leg slashed through her robes; she gasped as her right side exploded in a flash of pain, blurring her vision. She felt the blood start to flow across her now-exposed skin, but suddenly she didn't care. All her attention was focused on the heat and energy building in her trembling wand.

As the spider prepared to strike again, the dratted fire finally came under her control.

"_Ignarus Totalis!_" Lucia cried, and a roaring ball of flames erupted from the tip of her wand, launching itself at the Acromantula.

The Acromantula burst into flames and collapsed as the fireball struck it head-on. Its death shrieks reverberated throughout the cave as its body crackled and writhed violently in the midst of the newly-formed bonfire. Harry and Lucia watched the demise of the spider in silence, the former with his jaw dropped, the latter cradling her burned hand to her chest.

When the spider was nothing more than a glowing pile of embers, Harry turned to Lucia. "What—the bloody hell—was that?" he asked slowly.

Lucia shook her head. Now was not the time to explain. "Later," was all she said before limping over to the now-unconscious Hermione. Harry followed suit and knelt next to an unmoving Ron while Lucia focused her attention on the girl before her.

Hermione moaned and shifted slightly as Lucia ran an uninjured hand across her crumpled form. Lucia winced as her fingers met the jagged edge of bone on Hermione's arm. When she pulled back, her fingers were wet and tinged red.

"She needs to get to St. Mungo's," Lucia said to the air as she waved her wand, wincing again at the pain that shot through her burnt fingers, and stopped the bleeding as best as she could. The bone-setting she would leave to a professional Healer. "What the hell did your parents keep down here, anyway?" she asked Harry, almost conversationally now, with her back still towards him.

"My parents didn't build this." His voice was unusually muffled, and Lucia turned to see why. Harry was crouched, not over Ron, but before the solid stone wall behind his friend. He seemed to be tapping the rock with his wand, listening intently for something.

"What? How do you know?"

"I memorized the blueprint of the house before we left." Harry moved higher and higher up the wall, standing slowly as he did so. "This wasn't anywhere on the layout—"

"It could've been a secret cave," Lucia interjected.

Harry shrugged. "Possibly. But that doesn't explain why an Acromantula would be in here. I have a feeling my parents wouldn't have been fond of keeping a monster like that two floors below my bedroom. But it looks like the spider's been here for a while. . . almost like a pet or something."

"Or a guard," Lucia breathed as the realization hit her.

"Precisely. And I'm getting a sense of some Dark Magic residuals. . . right—around—here."

At that moment, green lines of light spider-webbed out from the tip of Harry's wand where it touched the rock face, weaving and converging together until a glowing outline of a door formed in the wall. Within seconds, there was a tinkling noise as a thin layer of flint disintegrated into powder at Harry's feet, revealing a small and sheltered alcove where none had been before. Harry stepped back, looking pleased with himself, while Lucia just gaped at what was in the alcove.

A wooden staff, its head intricately carved into the shape of a lion's jaws, rested across an altar of black marble. Lucia came over and stood next to Harry so as to read the inscription at the altar's base, ignoring the aching pain that resonated from her injured side.

"_Aram Mortis Cave,_" Lucia read aloud.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "Understand that, by any chance?"

"Yes. It's in Latin—'Beware the Altar of Death,' or something along that line."

"Just what I need—for Voldemort to go all Latin on my arse," Harry quipped as he raised his wand.

"What're you doing?"

"Destroying the Horcrux. Hermione came up with a spell to obliterate the soul within the object without harming the object itself." Harry gave a small grin. "As I really don't feel like harming the staff of the founder of my own house. . ."

"Hang on." Lucia extracted Ravenclaw's mirror from her robe pocket and handed it over to Harry. His eyes widened as he saw the backing. "I found it upstairs, in the nursery. And there's a man's image in there—it was talking to me when I picked the mirror up."

Harry flipped the mirror over and stared into the glass. Lucia watched an unexpected wave of fury pass across his face. "_Tom,_" he snarled.

"You know him?" Lucia asked, surprised.

Harry nodded curtly. "This is the man we now know as that bastard who's been giving us so much trouble, Voldemort," he nearly spat as he strode to the altar. After placing the mirror next to the staff, he came back and took his position again. With his wand raised, he bellowed, "_Anima Deleo!_"

There was no visible explosion, but the shock waves resonating from the altar made both of them stumble a step back. Lucia thought she could see a faint green mist swirl out from the end of the staff and the face of the mirror; but when she took another glance, the mist was gone.

Harry swiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robes. "Thank Merlin that's done," he said. "Two down, one to go."

Lucia suddenly felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. All she wanted to do now was get home. "Will you take Ron and Hermione back to Headquarters?" she asked Harry now. "I'm really feeling like I need a good long sleep at this point."

"Of course. I'll just Portkey the three of us back, along with the Horcruxes—I mean, _former_ Horcruxes. I want to have them completely tested for any remnant of Voldemort's soul." He peered into Lucia's face in the flickering torchlight of the cave, his expression suddenly worried. "You sure you don't want to come with us? You look completely beaten out."

"Thanks, but I think I'll just head home now." With a friendly smile, she added, "I'll stop by Headquarters tomorrow or the day after to check up on everything."

"Will count on that, then." Harry grinned. "And thanks for all that help with the spider—how the hell did you do it?" he asked as Lucia turned away.

"Later, Harry," she said with a laugh. "When everyone's awake." Then, she Disapparated.

* * *

When she arrived back in the living room of her flat, Lucia felt even more drained than she had in the cave. She wanted to get some sleep, badly. But when she started to limp off to her bedroom, she noticed for the first time that her robes were leaving a wide red trail on the floor in her wake. On closer inspection, she found the lower half of her robes to be completely soaked with blood.

Her blood.

Lucia swore aloud and turned to make her way to the kitchen, where her father had stored his healing kit, when a wave of nausea washed over her, forcing her to clamp her hand to her mouth before she lost her breakfast. Once the urge to be violently ill had passed, it was replaced by an overwhelming dizziness and growing weakness, and she had to stagger to the nearby couch for support. Breathing heavily, she could just make out her pale visage in the mirror over the fireplace, but without much detail—her vision was becoming blurred.

Footsteps rang out in the hallway before Draco appeared in the entryway of the living room. "Lucia, you're ba—" He stopped short, in both speech and motion, as he took in her frightening appearance.

At this point, Lucia's legs gave out, and she sank to her knees with a short cry of pain. Yes, her vision was definitely going—she could barely see Draco beyond his blond hair.

"Lucia!" Draco was by her side in an instant to hold her up; she felt his arm wrapped protectively around her back, his concerned face looming over hers. The sheer effort of breathing was starting to hurt her now. "Lucia, _what in Merlin's name happened to you?_"

"Draco," she managed to gasp before the last of her strength left her. She allowed herself to slump into his arms and vaguely heard him calling her name, as if he was in the very depths of Azkaban, before the blackness took her mind.


End file.
